Sneakoscope
by wizardsaresocool
Summary: Sneakoscopes, two prophecies and a love triangles: the Dark Lord's worst nightmare. When his loyal Death Eater has fallen in love with a young Muggle-born girl, and his brother in love with her too ... all hell breaks loose, and so does a deadly war. R
1. A Bittersweet Goodbye

_Sneaksoscope_

Disclaimer: I own nothing, really, the only thing I truly own is the protagonist.

Author's Note: This chapter may confuse you, but don't fret. I purposely made the first chapter, kind of like the last chapter so you figure out what exactly happens when you read on. Keeps you on edge wouldn't you agree? Remember to **comment**, if you don't I would be fairly disappointed.

~ **Fabi**

Chapter One: Bittersweet Goodbye

It wasn't her choice to become what she is; a Muggle-born.

It was not her intention. She didn't wake up one morning, wishing her father's hair to be indigo. It just happened. Like so many other events that arose the girl's peculiar behaviour. She just couldn't help it. However, disbelief ran through her veins when she received her letter on her eleventh birthday. The amount of perplexity roaming through the rooms of her house were far too much to soak in. Magic _didn't_ exist. The myths, those stories her mother read to her years ago ... were true.

It explained so much: why these things always happened to her, when she was mad, or when she was simply happy - the level of oddity was still there. It was on her seventh birthday when it first started. The first sign of her magical abilities. It confused her. She had nobody to talk too. Her parents would just advise her no such thing had occurred; _they_ weren't there though.

It was when the wheezy, plump man rang her doorbell; it all made sense. The magical outbursts made sense. Everything made sense. After the confusion, excitement was written across the faces of Mr and Mrs Talkalot. They were so proud. They had a witch in the family. A beautiful, gifted witch; that was destined for great things. They wanted to flaunt, but knew to keep it quiet. It was their _dirty _little secret.

Years past by, and they barely saw her. They missed their pale, freckly, ginger-haired daughter. Her random outcries were sorely missed by her mother, especially when she cried for more pancakes and honey. They communicated by letters, keeping her parents up-to-date with the current wizarding news. She didn't have an owl; she got a pet rat instead. A scruffy rat that looked like it was an offspring to a colony of rats that lived in the London sewers. She used her friend's owl instead. Lily's owl Hermes was always a darling.

And now, she was gone.

No more; freckly, petite Norma. She was taken. Her soul left; refusing to come back to her parents, and _friends_. What a waste. Her presence had such an everlasting effect on the people around her. She was peculiar. She was beyond words.

Her funeral even made the clouds weep: as rain dropped from the clouds. The weird ginger-haired girl; the girl that used to hum to class, dance by herself on the top of the hill, her arms swaying beside her – was gone. Her tragic death was a _mystery_ to some. Others' had vivid ideas of her demise, but did not say. Who were they to be a snitch? Who were they to tell on the Black brothers?

Far in the corner stood both of the brothers, Regulus Black and Sirius Black. Sadness was written all over Regulus's face, whilst Sirius's was merely blank. They felt uncomfortable. They shouldn't have come. It was their fault she passed away. If she hadn't come between them ... this wouldn't have happened: nobody would have gotten killed.

Regulus started to scratch his left arm, in agitation; eventually causing Sirius to snap. 'Will you stop for once?' Sirius said, his voice low, full of anger. 'Why don't you just go if you don't want to be here – or back to your _Lord_, seems like he's calling for you.'

'Be quiet,' hissed Regulus; his voice just as low; hoping that nobody was eavesdropping. 'I do _want_ to be here, Sirius.' Sirius glared at his younger brother, flicking his fringe out of the way. 'You probably care more about your looks more than her.'

Sirius anger encompassed him as he pushed his brother violently, causing Regulus to collapse on the ground. Gathering attention from everybody who were attending memorial. 'Shut up! You disgusting troll. Don't ever say I didn't care about her,' Sirius's eyes twinkled, as he spoke about her. 'I loved her. Unlike you. You used her. You took advantage of her, her looks, her personality – everything. _You _disgust me.'

Regulus stayed on the ground, gawking at his brother; he quickly stood up, fixing up his black robes before whipping out his wand. 'I did not take advantage of her. She loved me, and I loved her back. You bullied her; I was there for her when she was crying in the girls lavatories. Where were you, staring at your own reflection?' Sirius pulled out his own wand; the Muggles stared at the two brothers intently.

'Padfoot, come on,' a voice spoke, softly. 'Let's go. The Muggles are staring, hide your wand.' The boy looked at Regulus, 'you too. Don't want to give us exposure do you?'

'As if our robes don't already question their curiousity,' Regulus snarled, his eyes still meeting with his brothers. 'I suggest you mind your own business Potter.'

James looked at Regulus in disgust. 'Do you seriously think Norma would have appreciated a duel on a day completely devoted to her brilliance? Or will you two start to hex each other until you realise how ridiculous you are being?'

'I'm sorry, James. You're right.' Sirius agreed, 'We shouldn't be behaving in such a dreadful way. Today is all about her.' Sirius's grey eyes looked into James's hazel eyes; searching for solace. Knowing what Sirius was asking, James hugged him tight; crushing himself and Sirius in the process. 'I want to see her, Prongs ...' whispered Sirius. James nodded and let him go; watching his friend amble towards Norma's open casket.

He gazed at her, absorbing her beauty bit by bit. He looked at her parents' hoping they would let him touch her one last time. They looked at him, and gave him a reassuring smile. With their premission, he carresed her cheek; it was still warm. He leant towards and kissed her on the lips, her soft, immobile lips pressed on his, as a single tear trekked it's path down Sirius's cheek.

'Goodbye my love,' he whispered. 'I'll see you soon.'


	2. The Emblazoned Pyjamas

Chapter Two: The Emblazoned Pyjamas

His presence was intoxicating: his alluring eyes that captured the heart and soul of the females, to his severity overshadowing the male population. Nobody questioned him. He was not there to be questioned. He was a boy that one day wished to roam the world; discover so many things with his friends. He had done well in his classes. He wished to become an Auror: a Dark wizard catcher. Unlike his family members who disowned him, he was different. He had brought shame onto their family. Humiliated them in front of their friends; for they had a blood traitor as a son – and Sirius Black did not care at all.

He was proud to be what he was. If that made him a blood traitor then so be it. He always knew he wasn't the same; the dissimilarity between himself and his entire family tree was evident. _Toujours Pur. _He spat at the thought. If it wasn't for Muggles they would have become extinct. Completely vanished. Not a drop of magical blood meandering through their veins. He always kept it a secret. Never showed his dislike to the utter mayhem that surrounded his family's obsession.

It wasn't until his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he realised the unfathomable truth. He _was _different; broken the tradition: being sorted into Gryffindor. The nonplussed expressions of the Professors and students were still embedded into his brain. Nobody clapped. Nobody shouted. Silence. That's all there was. Silence. He still remembers it; so vividly. He grinned ear-to-ear, running to sit next to a girl who had been sorted into the same house minutes ago. Stares burned him, as they came from different directions. The people of Slytherin eyeing him broodingly, while the Gryffindors grimaced at the site of a Black sitting next to them.

What has the world done?

Sirius Black quietly groaned as he tried to complete his assignment. A whole parchment, twelve inches of agony. He had regretted every aspect of taking History of Magic for his N.E.W.T. Just a silly mistake. He could barely stay awake in class. Mr Binns voice had drowned the excitement and energy out of the sixteen year old boy; the school had just started and he wished to come back _home_.

The sixth year was a year filled with assignments; the worst being Transfigurations where Professor McGonagall showed no sympathy to her fellow students. Hard work was paid off; any slothfulness visible in a student was punishable.

Sirius continued to scratch his quill on his parchment, flicking through his book as he read about Goblin Rebellions.

'"_Goblins across the wizarding world have accused witches and wizards of deceitfulness and discrimination towards their race. Nevertheless, it was the goblins that evoked inequalities between us. goblins do not need a wand: "As the wand chooses the wizard (or witch)". A wand cannot choose a goblin, they are magical creatures – would you hand a Hippogriff a wand? Only when it has mated with a wizard (or witch) could they acquire some human-magical characteristics; allowing them to become more accessible to wands. _

_On the other hand, a goblin can do magic without a wand – what good does it make purchasing an object that cannot be any use to them? They are completely blind. We never wanted problems amongst goblins. We are all magical. Others needing the magical ability more than others ...'" _

'What a load of cow dung,' murmured Sirius, as he scanned through his book. '"_The wand chooses the wizard. A wand cannot choose a goblin._" That just shows discrimination isn't only for suffocating Muggle-borns but other magical beings.' Realising why he had chosen to study History of Magic, he began to write. His quill grazing the parchment at incredible pace; puddles of ink on his homework were the only evidence of his speed.

'Sirius, you should get to sleep mate. It's already two in the morning. Finish the homework tomorrow at breakfast.' A familiar voice said, quietly; hoping it didn't wake up anybody.

Sirius looked behind him and saw his best friend; James Potter. His jet-black hair stuck out on its ends as if he had been electrocuted. His round spectacles tilting to a side, his hazel eyes hiding behind them. He was like a brother to him. He took him in refuge when he ran away from his parents this summer. Entering his home with bruises on his face, broken ribs and a nose bleed.

'I'm coming Prongs,' Sirius said, smirking. 'Go back to bed; you look like you're decomposed.'

'That's not possible, you can't look decomposed.' James said, pointedly. 'What a bizarre thing to say, Padfoot.'

'I'm a bizarre person,' Sirius smiled. James said something under his breath that was incoherent, and left Sirius alone in the Gryffindor common room. The only thing that surrounded Sirius was the portraits that were deep in their slumber.

Finishing off his paragraph he rolled the parchment and threw it in his hand, carelessly. Yawning and slightly agitated by the lack of sleep he ambled towards the stairs; freezing as he heard light footsteps approaching from the girls' side. Highly interested, he waited for the girl – at least he hoped it was. It was annoying when boys tried to go to the girls' dormitory – however, it was unlikely, as there were spells that prevented them going.

The footsteps got louder and louder before a _thud_ was heard. Caught off guard, Sirius glanced around and eyed the girl who was now on the floor; facing the ground. She had frizzy carroty hair; Sirius swore he saw it change colour. And it did, too light blond. Was this girl a Metamorphmagus?

'Trying to be blond?' Sirius sneered.

The girl quickly moved her head to the where Sirius stood; her round silvery grey eyes on Sirius's. Grey met grey; they both stared at each other before stepping out of their trance. 'Sorry,' the girl uttered.

'What are you sorry about?' he pondered, watching the clumsy girl stand upright. Her emblazoned pyjamas caused him to become sightless. 'Who gave you those clothes? It's dreadful.'

The girl stared at him, not blinking. She had a very straight nose; Sirius thought he could have cut his finger just by touching it. Her ears stuck out too. He didn't know if she had morphed them or if they were simply natural.

'My Nan made it for me,' she blinked, 'its not dreadful. Speak for yourself. Black right? At least my Nan made me something - I heard you got kicked out your own house.'

'I didn't get _kicked _out. I left at my own will,' Sirius growled, 'So try get your facts right before you start uttering things that are lies.'

'Whatever,' the girl murmured. 'I'm going to the kitchens.'

'Hope you choke on whatever you're eating, Ginger,' Sirius said, indignantly. The girl glowered at Sirius before disappearing. It had been almost a week and false rumours have already been swirling its way through the castle. Is that what people thought, his parents kicked him out of the house? Sirius felt the absurdity of their belief. If they supposedly kicked him out, why hasn't this happened years ago? Why now? Infuriated Sirius gaited towards the dormitory and fell asleep, the thoughts of him being 'kicked' out still wandering around his head.

Days had gone past and the thoughts had still been swimming through his head. It was evident that the rest of the student body thought this; he had been kicked out. His parents were so sick of him, so frustrated by the mere presence of their blood traitor son they left him in the street, with nothing but trunk full of shattered dreams and resolutions.

Sirius saw the girl everywhere; it was strange that he didn't see her around much before their little chat. She shared a few classes with him; History of Magic and Potions, though she sat distinctly. She didn't talk much in class; she was a very quiet girl – something Sirius would never have thought of when she spoke to him days before that. That cold attitude he received was not visible anymore. Instead an aura of dottiness overwhelmed her.

Another day ended. Sirius walked towards the Entrance Hall with his friends; James, Remus and Peter. Remus was just a close to him as James. He was wise; holding a great level of maturity for a sixteen year old boy. Peter, however, was extremely humble. A little fellow that followed them around. They were his big brothers – protecting him and helping him. Together they formed the Marauders, an infamous group known for their pranks and brotherhood.

And they were about to get torn apart by the girl with the emblazoned pyjamas...

A/N: Comment! And don't send me reviews about my grammar T_T I know it's foul, do forgive me. But leave a review please!


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